


Winter Winds

by lisachan



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18054869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: She never thought she’d see him again, and to lay her eyes on him, bathed in light and real, so real it hurts, makes her heart beat fast enough she feels almost sick.





	Winter Winds

**Author's Note:**

> COWT9, W3, M2, prompt: perdere qualcosa e ritrovarla.

She never thought she’d see him again, and to lay her eyes on him, bathed in light and real, so real it hurts, makes her heart beat fast enough she feels almost sick.

The surroundings disappear all around her, all she can see is Jorah. The way he walks towards her, his cape swirling in the winter wind blowing on top of this cliff. The sky was gray, up to a few seconds ago, crowded with dark clouds, but it seems as though the moment he appeared the clouds decided to part and let a few rays of sunlight shine through.

He looks strong. Handsome and strong, and she’s drawn towards him by a tail of warmth that leaps from her heart and lands on his, passing through her heavy coat and the thick armorplate he’s wearing on his chest.

Jon’s voice fades away in the wind as she walks towards the group of men marching in her direction.

“Khaleesi,” one of the men says in Dothraki, “This man says he’s your friend.”

A warm smile curls her lips with a tenderness Jon has never seen before, and which draws a curious expression on his face. She would be amused by it, if she had any attention to spare for anyone else that isn’t Jorah.

“He is,” she answers, and then she introduces him to her companion. “Jon, this is Ser Jorah Mormont, an old friend.”

And there’s a world behind those words. He’s not simply an old friend, he’s her oldest friend, the shoulder she cried upon, her armed wing, her traveling companion, her first interpreter, her most trusted advisor. Through good and bad, he’s always been there for her, and not having him by her side through the most trying period of her life has been hell.

“You look strong,” she says, trying to hide the anticipation in her voice. Jon doesn’t notice – Jorah does, and he shares with her a secret smile as she goes on, “You found a cure?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t,” he answers, bowing discreetly, “I return to your service, my Queen,” and he looks up at her, and behind his green eyes she sees the ocean, the universe and a promise of undying loyalty, “If you’ll have me.”

She holds his gaze, rejoicing in his presence and in the warmth of the sun making her skin tingle with pleasure. “It would be my honor,” she says, and then she closes the distance between them and welcomes him in his arms, his place by birthright.

Jorah hides his face in her neck, inhales her scent and whispers something secret to her. “I’m yours,” he utters, his lips barely moving.

Daenerys trembles lightly in his arms as she closes her eyes and presses her whole body against him – she missed him, his presence, his spicy scent, the thickness of his sunburnt skin. She’s used to men laying down their lives for her, but somehow she feels as though he’s the first she truly wants to survive.


End file.
